Characters: Penelope Brisbois Sr and Charity (a servant) Setting: Brisbois Manor Rating: E for Evil Summary: Uh... E for Evil? Status: Narrative, Complete
Five months. Her daughter, her precious Genevieve, had been off with that boy for five months. It was maddening, it was a disgrace, it put a bad taste in her mouth. For a month, Penelope Brisbois had held out hope that Genevieve would see the clear error of her ways and return home, where she belonged. But no- the few times that Genevieve did set foot on the Manor's grounds, it was only to visit with her sister. (Her sister who, it had not escaped notice, was taking a bit too much of a behavioral cue from Genevieve.) After two months with no sign of this foolish game ending, Penelope Brisbois started to plan. She may not be able to win back her daughter, but she could at least secure that her family's name would be kept pure.
It had been three months since the plan had started to come together. It wasn't anything particularly revolutionary, no. After all, if one knew where to look, it was easy to find help for even the simplest of plots. A few coins pressed into the right hands, a few rarer herbs obtained, and a servant bribed for her silence- all which left Penelope Brisbois with a potion that would cause sterility, thereby assuring that boy would not tarnish her daughter any more than he had by the farce of a marriage.
Penelope ducked into the kitchen. As she had been promised, Cook was nowhere to be found- Charity was waiting, wringing her hands in her apron.
"Oh, there you are Missus, I was afraid you wouldn't come and- and I'd have to tell Cook why I was here and Mister Whitton's meal hadn't gone out to him yet--"
Penelope waved a hand, dismissively. Charity quieted. "I am here now," she said, succinctly. "And here is what you have been waiting for." She pulled a small vial from where it had been tucked into her sleeve.
Charity took it gingerly, as if it might suddenly spill and harm her. "Thank you, Missus." She turned to the plate of food destined for the stables, and carefully poured out a drop over each small bit of food. The vial would last for some time, she knew- but she also knew that Madam Brisbois would want to see the act done, at least once. When Charity looked up, she was alone- only a few coins left behind, which she cheerfully pocketed.